A Mother's Intuition
by Wylrin
Summary: Pamela Voorhees ponders her son's existence, as well as his relationship with Michael Myers.


It was autumn at Camp Crystal Lake. It had always been her favorite season. The temperature was just right, with a cool breeze that wasn't enough to chill, but just enough to offer a pleasant feeling of wind through your hair. The trees' leaves would turn from their green into spectacular gold and scarlet, falling lazily to the ground and littering its surface. They would scrunch under your feet as you raked them into a large pile before jumping into them with a loud _crunch_. Ah, she remembered her childhood days, when something as simple as a pile of leaves could bring her such unbridled joy. She wasn't a child anymore, but even so, she loved autumn as she always had. Maybe she loved it even more so now, for now she had yet another reason to love the change in season.

It meant that summer had come to an end, and that no more campers would be coming to Camp Crystal Lake.

It gave her reassurance knowing that no one would set foot on the grounds - for several months, at least. For those several months, no one would come anywhere near her baby, Jason.

Jason... her precious, _precious_ child... He meant the world to her. He _was_ her world. The moment Jason was born was the moment when she realized that nothing else mattered. Only he, the little baby she held in her arms, mattered to her anymore. Nothing else could come between the mother and her son. How could anything else matter, when this little child so desperately needed her? This little child that, admittedly, needed her even more than any other child needed their mother. Of course he needed her even more... Her sweet little boy just wasn't capable of doing things by himself. She had acknowledged that from the start, and it hadn't impeded her love for her son in the slightest. If anything, it had only intensified that love.

It made her smile - though it made her cry, too - thinking of Jason when he was very young. She remembered teaching him how to walk. She remembered spoon feeding him even years after any other child would have done it for themselves. But Jason was not "any other child," he was her special boy. Even if that meant he was stupid or retarded in the eyes of everyone else, it didn't matter to her in the slightest. She still loved her son just as any mother would love their child.

Her only regret was the trouble her little Jason had in life. He couldn't live as any other child would. While most children would be out and about exploring their world, Jason was still struggling to comprehend what little of the world he'd been exposed to. While most children would begin to branch away from their parents in exploration of their own personality, Jason was completely dependent on her. She didn't mind this, and she didn't consider it to be a burden in any way. It only troubled her knowing how much her little boy struggled in understanding and living in the world around him.

He never talked much. She could vividly remember the time he had said his first word, _years_ after any other child would be speaking fluently. She remembered the joy she had felt, and the huge, encouraging smile on her face even though tears streamed from her eyes. It had been a milestone, that day. Even if all he had asked for was his favorite snack, a single word spoken, unaccompanied by any others, Jason had _communicated_ with her, and that was something he'd never done, had never _been able_ to do.

She held on to these memories fondly. They were times of great happiness, of great hope for the boy who had been born into a world that he couldn't understand in its fullest. These times, of which were few and far between, reminded her that her boy was slowly coming to understand the world around him, despite the barriers that prevented him from doing so. In truth, _every_ little moment spent with Jason had made her happy. It was the little things that kept her smiling, such little things that anyone else might not notice, but she did. Every time she'd give him a kiss on the cheek, he'd give her a lopsided grin in return. It might seem like nothing, but it was proof of _recognition_ in her son. He could recognize the gesture of love she gave him, and he could smile in return, acknowledging and even reciprocating in his own way. It hadn't always been that way. When he was younger, he would just sit, staring blankly at the wall without acknowledging anything that went on around him. It hurt to see her son that way, but it made her smile knowing how much he had improved from that point.

It was a shame that happiness was ended so prematurely.

If she had known how cruel the world intended to be to her son, she would never have let Jason out of her sight for even a moment. She blamed herself for ever thinking that anyone else would ever understand her child like she did, and take care of him accordingly. At the same time, of course, she cursed the inadequacy and stupidity of the ones who were supposedly watching over her son. He had died that day, and it was all because of those _sickening_ little monsters who were too busy tearing each other's clothes off to notice her precious little baby drowning...

It stabbed her heart to think about even now. In her mind's eye, in her most terrible nightmares, she could only picture her son flailing his arms in the lake, crying out for her while she was nowhere to be found. Oh, if only she had _been_ there. Even if she hadn't been able to save him, at least he would have died seeing her coming, seeing her coming to save him. Instead, he'd died alone, Mommy nowhere in sight... as if she'd forgotten... as if she didn't care. That knowledge alone was almost more painful than his actual death. As a mother, it hurt her to think that her son's last moments had been without her, that his last thoughts had been focused solely on where she was, and why she wasn't coming to help him.

She hadn't been able to save him, but she _had_ managed to avenge him, oh yes. Never would she have allowed those _miscreants_ to go on about their lives without being punished for their horrible crime. For what greater crime was there than taking such a sweet, innocent child from his dear mother? No, they had condemned themselves to their own fate the moment they neglected their duties to her son. And so it was _her_ duty to deliver unto them their punishment, for who else would? No one, for no one else could possibly understand her pain. Even if they had... it would have made no difference. Even if an entire community had come after those wretched teens, angry and armed, she would not have let them be the ones to deliver justice. No, that right was solely and rightly hers. It was not simply a matter of vengeance, after all. If it had been, perhaps she would have delighted in having a massive swarm behind her, a crowd just as anxious as she was to exact retribution for Jason's death. But the fact of the matter was... her precious baby had _asked_ his mommy to kill the ones that had forsaken him. She had _heard_ his pleas - _Kill them, Mommy. Kill them!_ \- in her head as clearly as she saw the sun rise in the east every morning. Having heard his cries from beyond the grave, who was she to refuse him? Her baby dearest, who had but one last wish for her to fulfill for him.

And she had granted that wish. Oh, she had gone beyond that! She had made it her mission to make sure no one, _no one_ set foot on those campgrounds ever again. She would not have history repeat itself... and she would not let anyone disturb her son's resting place as long as she lived.

This philosophy did not allow her to live forever.

It was a strange and conflicting thing, her death. One on hand, she could no longer guard the campgrounds with her life, ensuring that no one dared return to the place that stole her son from her. On the other hand... this meant that she could finally reunite with her dear Jason after all these years. In exchange for no longer being able to protect Camp Crystal Lake and guarantee that no one ever trespassed there, she had regained her son. It was a loss to be unable to protect the lake, but the reward of being with her son far outweighed the price.

What a shock it was to discover then, that both of these endeavors could be accomplished at once.

Realizing that it was now Jason who walked the mortal plane while she was dead had terrified her at first. How could they possibly be together now?! Oh, her poor baby, out alone in the world again! Without his mother to protect him! What would become of him? How would he _survive_?!

As it turned out, Jason was more than capable of taking care of himself. His human needs - food, water, rest - were seemingly irrelevant to him now. Nothing seemed to do him any harm, either. The chill of the air did not make him shiver as it once had. The prick of the discarded machete's blade when he improperly handled it for the first time did not make him cry, or even flinch. The most pain that Jason seemed to comprehend was seeing the body of his decapitated mother. She had watched, in her incorporeal existence, as he slowly dropped to his knees, delicately picking up her severed head in his hands. He had stayed like that, cradling the head in his arms, rocking gently back and forth there on the ground near the lake.

For the first time in her afterlife, she had cried.

It wasn't until after that incident that, one by one, the rest of her worries ever so slowly began to die down. She watched as her dear son strode about Camp Crystal Lake with purpose. The little boy she had once known had constantly stumbled about, bumping into things, losing his balance easily. Now nothing stood in his way as he walked with _power_ in those movements and _control_ in his stride. She watched as her son's eyes scanned the endless trees intently, as if looking, as if _daring_ for someone to come into his territory, so that he could deal with them accordingly. Those same eyes had once seemed so blank, so incomprehensive, but no longer. She watched that strong, colossal man - _yes, that was her son!_ Her little baby boy was growing up...

She had thought then that, perhaps, this would be the end of Pamela Voorhees. Perhaps now she would rest, and her spirit would be at peace. She did not like the thought of leaving her son, but she found herself admitting that if it did come to that, her boy could handle things without her. It made her heart both ache and swell with pride with this knowledge. In the end, it did not come to that, however. She had often stood with Jason in the same room, watching him go about his daily routine. She would always go unnoticed by him, which, she supposed, as a ghost it was only natural that he would not see her. Which is why she was so startled when one day, when she whispered to herself, _"I'm so proud of you, sweetie,"_ her son's head jerked up. He whirled around, though not to face where her nonexistent self was standing, but instead to where her decapitated head sat quietly in its designated shrine.

Oh her dear, sweet baby boy. Of course he would think...

Jason would never understand how it worked, she knew. She herself barely understood it, but she didn't need to. All she needed was a way to talk to her baby boy, and now she had it! And so they talked. Well, _she_ talked, but he listened. It wasn't so much the words themselves that gave him comfort. It was more so the sound of her voice, just like it had been all those years ago. At long last, they were truly united! And nothing could ever dare stand between mother and son!

Then ** _it_** showed up.

At first, she honestly didn't know _what_ it was. She would get the feeling that something... wasn't right. But when she looked about, she saw that nothing was amiss. She laughed at herself. Nothing could harm her or her son! It was far beyond anything's capability! She has seen over the years just how much her boy is capable of and she knew that _nothing_ could ever hurt him. Anything anyone did to him was an inconvenience, the buss of an annoying insect around his head which was then quickly and effectively crushed in his grasp. And she - well, how do you possibly hurt something that's already dead? The idea that something could sneak up on them and actually do some sort of harm was laughable, _cute_ , even. So she disregarded it as the rubbish it really was.

That is, until Jason started looking over his shoulder.

The fact that _her son_ was sensing something off immediately set off every siren and red flag she had in her head. Her own slight discomfort had meant nothing to her, but if _her baby_ was being affected by this, then she was immediately going to gear up for war. And she knew for certain that something was up with him. Jason was not paranoid. He had been unconcerned for his own safety in life - as he, as any child, could not possibly understand the certain dangers of the world - and he was uncertainly unconcerned after death. It never had been in his nature to hesitate. If he was going to do something, then he was going to do it without paying any mind to other petty distractions. Mommy was the only exception. So to see him striding through the woods, then all of the sudden make a complete stop and turn his head to look at something (when there hadn't even been a sound) wasn't like him at all!

As much as she wanted the explanation and wanted it _now_ , she forced herself to wait, to calm. Never would she allow herself to assume a tone with Jason. Her sweet boy just wouldn't understand. Why was his mommy angry at him? No, she could never allow that! So she waited until she was certain that any traces of fear or accusation would be out of her voice to ask:

 _"Sweetheart, what were you looking at?"_

He looked off towards the direction of his shack where her head still sat, as was his typical reaction to hearing her voice in his head. After a few moments of consideration, his tensed body relaxed, then slumped, his head lowered. It was his version of a shrug.

That was all she was going to get out of him, unfortunately. The whole mind-to-mind thing was only a one-way deal, it seemed like. Either that, or her sweet baby's mind just didn't work on a frequency that she could understand. She crushed that latter hypothesis under her shoe with a vengeance. She was his mother! _No one_ understood him better than she did! She did not "tell" him this, however. Her own thoughts and her thought voice were two separate things, it seemed. She didn't pretend to understand this, but she wasn't complaining. She loved her dear, special boy. He needed protected from certain things about the world, things that replayed on a constant loop in her mind during her worst bouts of anxiety. These times have been growing fewer and farther between over the years, but that didn't erase them entirely. The last thing she wanted to do was worry her child with her own burdens. So while she would have loved to know exactly what was going on in his head, she was grateful that he didn't have to know what was going on in _hers._ Hopefully whatever was troubling them would go away.

It did not.

It got worse.

She caught her first glimpse of it. White, she saw white, but that was all she could make out of her peripheral vision, and when she focused her eyes on the spot she knew it had been, it was gone. She couldn't count the number of times this happened. It was really starting to unnerve her. She swore she could feel eyes burning straight through her, but all she could catch was a glimpse of pure, bright white among the contrasting colors of the late-autumn woods. _Just a patch of snow_ , she wanted to believe, but snow hadn't even fallen yet, and even if it had, patches of snow didn't vanish within the blink of an eye. But what did? Was her mind playing tricks on her? She wasn't sure which was more frightening - seeing something that wasn't there, or seeing something that _was_ there.

This continued on for quite some time. That is, until she finally saw it in its entirety.

It looked like a man, yet something told her that it most certainly _wasn't_. It wore a blue jumpsuit and a blank white mask that she had almost mistaken for its actual face. And its eyes... it had the blackest eyes. She had no idea what this thing was, but she knew one thing for certain. She didn't want it anywhere near her baby.

 _"Kill it, Jason,"_ she told her boy. _"Kill for Mommy!"_

And so the machete-wielding man did as ordered. Or... tried to. She wasn't too sure of what she was seeing at first. Her son's blade was inches deep into the thing's chest, and yet it didn't seem the slightest bit deterred. It merely tilted its head as if in wonder before taking the machete and ripping it out of its chest. The weapon dropped harmlessly to the ground, even as blood poured from the not-a-man's gaping wound. And for the first time, she saw something in her son's eyes she thought she'd never see in his undead form.

 _Fear._

This new emotion in her son's eyes was enough to make his mother afraid herself. What was this thing, that it did not die so similarly to how her son would not?

She didn't have much time to ponder it, for the thing was moving. But instead of moving forward, as she feared it might, it simply sauntered away, its black eyes never once leaving her son's.

That was their first encounter with it. That would not be their last.

She would see it even more often now. It wasn't even trying to hide anymore, no longer disappearing from view the moment she caught a glimpse of it. It would simply stand amongst the trees, blending in well except for the stark white of its mask. But even that bright white was nearly easy to let one's eyes skim over. How such a thing could blend in with a mask of snow white was beyond her. But it nearly did. And it would have, she had a hunch, if it didn't want to be seen. But for whatever reason, it was allowing others to take notice of its presence.

Jason had taken to staring back at the thing when it showed up in the distance. There was a trepidation in her son's eyes where normally there was but a calm nonchalance. It enraged her. Whatever this thing was, it was unnerving her baby, and she wouldn't have that.

Never in her unlife has she tried to attack something, but one day when that thing made itself known on the tree line near the lake, she attempted just that. Her punch at the thing's face swept the hair of its mask back as if she were merely a breeze. The _look_ it gave her, though. That was something she would never forget. Nothing had ever looked at her in her ghostly form, not even Jason. But this thing stared straight at her as if it knew exactly where she was, and the look in its eye made her nonexistent blood run cold. No mere man could give a look like that, she knew. What she was dealing with here was something otherworldly, and she wanted it gone.

 _"Leave this place,"_ she told it in the most threatening voice she could manage.

It merely stared at her, but something had changed in its eyes. It now had a look of almost...

 _Amusement._

 _\- - -_

Time passed, autumn turning to winter. The white of that mask now blended in even further with the surrounding snow, but she had no trouble spotting it. It wasn't trying to be discreet, wasn't trying to hide. No, it now watched her son out in the open now, its black eyes boring into him at nearly all times.

Jason had had enough.

He approached it again, his machete at the ready. For a moment, the thing simply stared back at him, before seemingly taking him up on the challenge that had been issued. Slipping a kitchen knife from somewhere in its jumpsuit, it did not assume a combative stance, instead simply standing straight as it always did, its arms hanging limply by its sides. The moment Jason swung his machete at it, however, something immediately changed. Its grip on the knife tightened and it rose its arm to parry the blow. Steel clanged as the machete met the smaller blade midway. This did little to deter Jason, who merely slashed at the masked creature again. It stepped a few paces back, evading the blow. It was strange how it moved. So slowly and fluidly yet somehow quickly enough to dodge the slashes of Jason's blade.

There was something in the thing's eyes now where there was usually only blank emptiness. She could have sworn it was _boredom_.

It lashed out at Jason, who seemed shocked that he was being attacked. Few dared to act against him. It was this surprise that paralyzed him for a few split seconds, giving his attacker more than enough time to sink its blade into his shoulder. Jason seemed more enraged than hurt, as per usual. The distance the thing had to close between themselves for such an attack left it open to an attack of Jason's own, something made clear by the sinking of his machete into its abdomen.

The thing in the white mask pulled back, unsheathing its knife from Jason's flesh with a sickening _squelch_. The hockey-masked killer pulled back as well, tearing his machete from his opponent's stomach with a ruthlessness that would have killed a normal man. But this thing wasn't a normal man. No, she corrected, it wasn't a man _at all_ , as was made very apparent by its retaliation.

A hand - one so deceptively human - shot out for her son's throat, gripping it tightly. What happened next startled both the mother and her son. Jason was being _lifted_ off the ground. This thing's strength rivalled her son's own. Jason wasn't having it, though. He kicked at his opponent's chest, a sickening _crack_ ringing out as its sternum was snapped. This, though not enough to make it stand down, was enough to make it release its hold on his neck. Jason dropped to the ground, taking no time to slash at his opponent with his machete yet again. Blood sprayed from the wound that went from shoulder to hip, but still the thing showed no sign of relenting.

For a time, they simply stared at one another, each seemingly put on edge by their opponent's disturbing inability to just _die_. After some time, however, the thing in the white mask seemed to have its curiosity sated, for it turned on its heel and made to leave.

Jason's grip on his machete tightened, his jaw clenching behind his hockey mask. He immediately gave pursuit.

 _Don't you walk away from me!_

As if it had heard him, the Shape whirled around, a look of... _something_ in its eyes that she couldn't quite discern. The intensity of the look was enough to make Jason pause. For some time, they each simply stood there, one staring into the eyes of the other. After a time, it simply shook its head slowly, a surprisingly human gesture from such an inhuman creature.

 _Do not test me._

Jason seemed shocked, as if he had heard the words as though the Shape had spoken them. It was this state of shock that rendered him still as it turned on its heel once again and disappeared behind the trunk of a tree. All the while, the mother didn't have the slightest clue what had happened.

 _"Jason?"_

Her voice in his head broke him out of his trance. He turned in the direction of home, as he always did when he heard Mother's voice.

 _"Are you alright?"_

She knew she wouldn't get an answer out of him, but she still felt the need to ask. The gaping hole in his shoulder from the Shape's attack continued to bleed without pause, but Jason didn't seem to mind in the least. No, he seemed more concerned with staring in the direction it had disappeared.

\- - -

Months passed, winter turning into spring, then to summer, and it seemed that the Shape might finally be gone for good. It hadn't made an appearance since Jason gave it a good thrashing. She was relieved. Things could finally go back to normal around here. Unfortunately, normal around Camp Crystal Lake happened to involve a lot of teenagers popping up and fornicating on their grounds. Her contempt and disgust for those miscreants hadn't dulled in the slightest.

 _"Kill them all, Jason,"_ she told him, and like a good boy, he waited till nightfall to do just that.

Indeed, everyone did die that night, but not all of them by Jason's hand.

The man behind the hockey mask was having... some slight difficulties with the last remaining survivor. She was desperate to survive, and in her desperation, she had taken an axe and driven it through his skull with a wild swing to his head. As Jason was prying the axe from his head, a shadow crossed over the girl, and her head was yanked back by the hair. Her shriek was silenced by a knife sliding across her throat. Letting the girl drop lifelessly to the floor, the Shape regarded Jason with an indiscernible look.

Jason stared back at it. For several long moments, there was nothing but silence between the two, and never would that silence be broken. However, the Shape would get a sense of the words coming from the other masked killer:

 _That was mine._

The thing in the white mask said nothing, as per usual, nor did it make any movement that suggested any form of communication. And yet Jason got the impression that it said, somehow:

 _Go to sleep._

And, whether it was the severity of the head injury or simply because it had told him to, he did just that.

\- - -

When he awoke, he was on the floor of the cabin he had momentarily lost consciousness in. To his dismay, the Shape was still there, sitting casually on the edge of a bed as if it belonged there.

It did not.

Rising to his feet, Jason thought to it, _Get out of here._

To his surprise, the thing responded in kind. _No._

He raised his machete, ready to _make_ the thing leave, but it acted first. Rising slowly from its seated position on the bed, it pulled something out from somewhere in its jumpsuit. It was a glossy piece of paper, a photo, Jason came to recognize. Mommy had plenty of photos of him, which he kept safe in his cabin in the woods. A question shone in the eyes behind the hockey mask, but as per usual, he said nothing.

He didn't have to. The thing across from him eventually approached, making Jason raise his blade higher in defense. It made no move for its kitchen knife, however, instead merely stopping in front of Voorhees when they were an arm's reach apart. It was then that it mutely handed over the photo.

Jason wasn't sure what compelled him, but he took it, keeping one eye on the masked creature while he allowed his other eye to examine the photo. It was of a young woman with blonde hair. Had the hair been shorter and the face been more matured, she might have looked somewhat like Mommy. But no, this was most certainly not a picture of Mommy. It was the picture of a complete stranger, and Jason hadn't the slightest idea why he was being shown this image.

 _Have you seen her?_

The question came into his head similarly to how Mommy spoke to him, but it was obvious that it was somehow coming from the Shape.

 _No,_ was his reply.

The black eyes merely stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. During this time, Jason got to examine his little guest a bit more closely. He saw that it was a bit shorter than he was, but this hardly seemed to matter, given its strength that could lift even him off the ground. Not much could be discerned about it aside from that, given its white mask and jumpsuit that told little about the form beneath it.

After quite some time, the Shape eventually moved, extending a hand, palm up. It took Jason a while to figure out what he wanted, but when he did, he returned the photo. It took back its possession, slipping it back into its jumpsuit with a deliberate slowness that Jason didn't particularly understand.

All the while the mother watched in awe, not entirely certain what she was seeing. She'd never seen Jason act civilly with anyone after his return to Camp Crystal Lake. Everyone had been stabbed or slashed or choked or beaten to death. Yet not this one. Not this time, at least. She wasn't sure what to think of it, nor was she certain what to think of the nonverbal communication going on between the two of them. She couldn't hear their thoughts, but she could see the consideration in her boy's eyes, the way he paused and reflected on something unspoken, the way he was now.

The staring contest was eventually ended by the Shape, who once again turned on its heel and quietly sauntered off. Before it could leave, however, Jason asked it, _Who are you?_

There was a pause where the creature stopped, turning its head to look back at the man behind the hockey mask. Turning its head back to stare off in front of it, it eventually replied:

 _Michael Myers._

\- - -

It wasn't until some time after Halloween that Michael Myers returned to Camp Crystal Lake. Its visits were becoming more and more common, to the point where Jason hardly minded its presence. He didn't like that it hadn't died the first time he'd attacked it, but its presence wasn't doing any harm, so he didn't initiate an attack again. Besides, there was something about the creature. Jason wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was how they could seemingly communicate with each other on some supernatural level. He was still confused by how such a thing was possible, but the Shape didn't seem to have an answer, either. Indeed, it seemed just as curious as Jason was, if not more so. So it stuck around, shadowing the other killer wherever he went.

 _Why do you follow me?_ Jason asked it one day. __

The Shape didn't seem to know the reason why itself. After a time, it eventually answered, _You're interesting._

That made Jason pause. No one had ever called him _interesting_ before. Aside from Mommy, no one had really called him anything positive before.

 _Why don't you die?_ he asked it another time.

He was met with a slow shrug. _Why don't you?_

Jason didn't have an answer to that.

Their interactions grew more and more frequent, the Shape following about like his shadow. They were inseparable now, with Michael extremely curious about the other and Jason not minding the other's presence. It had been such a long time since he's had someone to be with. This was the first time he's had someone other than Mommy.

And Mommy wasn't sure how she liked that.

She had hated the Shape at first. There was something... _dark_ about it, something not quite right. And this was coming from a deceased woman who had an undead creature as a son. Now she wasn't sure what to think of it. In life, Jason had never had anyone but her. Now this was changing, and she wasn't sure she liked it. There was something terribly wrong with the Shape. Something purely and simply... evil. And yet it remained civil enough with her son, following him around like a lost puppy.

And one day, it did more than that.

One day, it was Jason following it instead of the other way around. As they travelled deeper and deeper into the forest, they grew dangerously close to the edge of the property. The Shape stood on the other side, in the vast unknown, and beckoned Jason to follow. He stepped forward.

 _"JASON!"_

Her boy jumped at the suddenness and ferocity of her tone. And ferocity was the word. She was enraged, but this rage masked a terror unlike any she had ever felt before. This... this thing was trying to take him from her, from the Camp, from Mommy! And she wasn't having it.

 _"Come to Mommy, Jason,"_ she ordered. And so he did, reluctantly parting from the Shape, who simply stared at him as he left to go to his cabin. When he knelt down before his mother's head, she could see a fear in his eyes that had never been there before. Was Mommy angry at him?

 _"Mommy is worried, sweetie,"_ she told him. _"Mommy doesn't want you spending time with that... thing anymore."_

Because Mommy was scared. This thing, she felt, was trying to take her boy away from her, out into the cruel world where anything and everything could go wrong. She couldn't have that. Jason had never before needed anyone but Mommy, and he didn't need anyone else now! It had been a mistake to watch her son allow this thing to follow him around. She should have told him to just kill it, if the thing was even capable of dying. She should have-

"Friend."

The entire world stopped spinning. Everything stopped right there. Jason had spoken, a single word, that simple word. He had barely ever spoken in life, had never spoken after death. What had prompted him to...?

"Michael... friend."

 _Michael._ Was that the thing's name? In that moment, Mommy was completely dumbfounded. Jason had never had a friend before. No one had ever wanted to be his friend and she had always been too protective of him to allow him to get close to anyone else. He'd never needed anyone else. Mommy was his entire world. Yet now... now...

Jason had made... a friend. She felt unbridled joy, sheer terror, and unholy rage all at once. A friend meant Jason was venturing away from Mommy. This was new. This was uncharted territory, and such territory was dangerous. And yet... a friend meant that Jason had someone. A companion. It was too much for her to take.

For the rest of that night, Mommy was silent.

\- - -

She watched them even more closely than she ever had before the next few days and the months following them. She watched as they exchanged bouts of silence, silence which, unbeknownst to her, was filled with quiet dialogue. She watched as one led the other through the woods. She watched them kill together when summer came around again. She watched the Shape disappear as Halloween came around. She watched as Jason was beside himself in its absence, unsure what to do with himself. She watched as it returned and Jason's eyes would light up with joy.

How this... friendship had established was beyond her. The first time they'd properly met, they'd attacked one another. Now they were best friends, it seemed, and she wasn't sure what to think of that. What was she _supposed_ to make of that? She supposed it was the equivalent of two children fighting over some petty dispute then deciding to make up with each other, one day eventually even becoming friends.

She asked him what he saw in it. He didn't exactly have an answer for her. All he could convey was that this Michael was his friend, and that was that.

Part of her was sad. She didn't want to lose even the smallest part of her baby to _anyone_. Yet part of her was happy. It was Jason's first friend, and part of her didn't want to jeopardize that regardless of what may come.

Some part of her still nagged at her that something was terribly wrong with Michael, but what could be done? Jason seemed happier with it around, and in the end, his happiness was all that mattered to her.

Even if her mother's intuition told her that something was terribly, terribly wrong.


End file.
